


like a knife in the woods

by bunshima



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drabble Collection, Gen, Mistakes have been made, Other, doesnt have actually shippy content yet but soon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:07:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22679959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunshima/pseuds/bunshima
Summary: Silence, aside from the soft whirring of the ship's machinery."What are you planning to do with him?", is the first thing Katalina asks him, firmness in her voice. It's clear that she doesn't think highly of his choice.(or alternatively: what if i constructed an entire self-indulgent au with protag ocs out of thin air)
Relationships: Belial (Granblue Fantasy)/Original Character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> first fic of 2020 and im doing something ive been thinking of since november! i rly came to like my gransona/gbf oc/whatever u wanna call it so i kinda ended up constructing a full blown verse with my gf and her oc. oh yeah i also caught brain rot so thats also here. theres not much to know about this other than that its set after 000. i dont really have a set schedule for this, seeing how its just a little wind down project that ill occasionally write drabbles for!
> 
> that being said, please be nice
> 
> disclaimer: i am illiterate, everybody fucking hates hak for peeling [redacted] off the top of his ship with a spatula

Tension lies thick in the air around the three figures upon the Endeavor's bridge. Silence, aside from the soft whirring of the ship's machinery.

"What are you planning to do with  _ him?", _ is the first thing Katalina asks him, firmness in her voice. It's clear that she doesn't think highly of his choice. 

Hakeem can't blame her. Only with hesitation he manages to lift his hands to sign, to which she directs her attention to a certain primal at her side. 

"He says he doesn't know yet.", Noa tells her truthfully.

Perhaps it was the wrong thing to say - the frown on the knight's face tells a lot more than a thousand or more words could express.  _ Perhaps  _ this is even the wrong thing to do, but considering the state of both crews, a knee-jerk reaction would be likely. Something he wants to avoid.

Katalina seems torn, willing to go on, yet finds herself held back for an unknown reason. A hand brought up to her face, pinching the bridge of her nose in either frustration or exhaustion. Well, Hakeem wouldn't blame her for either. 

"I see.", Katalina responds dryly - and promptly leaves the bridge by stomping away in a rather clumsy fashion, likely due to an injury on one of her legs. 

Thus, Hakeem is left alone with Noa. Even with the primal's usual demeanor still being present, he can see the glint of something incredibly judgemental in his eyes. A moment of dense silence passes before Noa begins to sign back at him. 

[Be careful.] 

And with that, the primal leaves him to his own devices just as Katalina did. 


	2. Chapter 2

After standing around the bridge in contemplation - which didn't help his case at all - Hakeem eventually decides to go for a breath of fresh air. The winds are harsh, whipping across the Endeavor's main deck with considerable strength while the airship is still docked to the Grandcypher. The other ship towers over his cruiser in a downright threatening manner -  _ as if it knew. _

As if it knew that Hakeem took the enemy under his wing and threw him into a cell instead of overboard. 

The entirety of his sister's crew and a hefty majority of his own weren't thrilled about his decision, but Hakeem wants to think this through. Either he saved a ticking time bomb from falling to the bottom of the sky or he gained a future ally - a valuable war asset, even. Such comparisons don't seem exaggerated if one considered that they're talking about  _ Belial  _ here. The primarch would be able to tear a hole into this ship single-handedly, a puny holding cell not nearly enough to contain him, but those circumstances are nothing a little bit of negotiation can fix. 

It's just a shame primals don't  _ need _ to eat; starvation isn't an option in this case. Well,  _ That _ will have to wait either way. Cagliostro likely has her hands full with treating the injured, so he'll give her a hand. 

However, his mere presence at the sickbay earns him disdainful stares. 


	3. Chapter 3

"What are you even  _ trying _ to achieve with this?", Azazel inquiries, anger clearly weighing into his tone. 

They haven't even spoken properly yet and he's already close to yelling. Well, it  **is** Azazel. 

The primal towers over Hakeem quite easily, resulting in him having to tilt his head downward to look at his captain properly. Their height difference was never something of relevance before, but now Azazel seems to see it as an advantage, a means to give his arguments more weight. 

Hakeem listens to each of his crew members carefully, but it's clear that the primal feels unheard. Mistreated. Betrayed, even. Again, he can't blame him and the others for not putting faith into his decision. 

**"Answer me."**

[I don't know what to say.]

His hands are shaking just a little as he signs. 

"Are you just going to let him get away with everything?" 

[No.]

Hakeem has to take a short break, a breather in between signing, as to gather his wits - for what he is about to tell Azazel isn't going to make it any better. 

[But it is not in my hand to judge an enemy.]

To his surprise, there's no yelling although the primal's face has started to take on a purple hue from badly contained anger. However, in spite of the obvious hostility, Azazel doesn't stop Hakeem as he continues. 

[You can speak to him. Olivia, too. Venting could help. I won't allow you to kill him, though.]

Another surprise. Azazel shakes his head at the mere notion of killing Belial. "I want him to be conscious."

Hakeem nods, understanding of the circumstances. The rebellion is something he heard of in stories and anecdotes spun by Azazel, so he can only imagine what it must've been like, to lose everything in a flash. It wouldn't be far from the truth to say that Belial deserves death as penance for inciting an uprising simply as means to assist his maker in achieving an ultimately selfish goal, but again, Hakeem doesn't want to make such judgments. 

"I'm going to see him right now.", Azazel states firmly. 

[He might be still unconscious.]

"Trust me, I'll wake him."


	4. Chapter 4

Olivia, too, seemed thankful for an opportunity to vent age-old anger (although 'vent' doesn't quite cut it) so Hakeem decided to give the two primals some privacy with their prisoner. Even through the thick iron gate deep within the Endeavor that separates the small cell tract from the rest of the ship, one can hear angered howls - exclamations, death wishes, curses, hissing. 

It's clearly audible, even in the captain's quarters. Words are hard to make out in between enraged yowling and other noises he can't put into categories, but that's not a bad thing. That makes it easier for Hakeem to ignore, words usually tempting him to listen intently. 

It's not the most pleasant cacophony to witness, even less to fall asleep to, but once Hakeem rolls into a comfortable spot in his bed, slumber finds him quicker than expected. 


	5. Chapter 5

There's a shred of normalcy when Hakeem isn't stared down by his own crew during breakfast time any longer and a few even decide to sit with him. The visit Azazel and Olivia had paid their newest addition seemingly had made the rounds - how could one possibly overhear it anyway? 

Despite it having been a mere day since he threw Belial into a holding cell, no one questions it; not openly, at least. They're likely still wondering what he's trying to pull this time, although Hakeem doesn't even have the vaguest idea himself - a bad sign. 

Teeth click on his spoon as he chews on the metal in thought, gaze cast at the half empty bowl of yogurt before him. The others that ate with him already returned to their respective rooms or the sickbay, likely to help Cagliostro where they possibly could (wouldn't surprise him if she didn't sleep last night, both due to watching over the injured and Azazel's frenzied yelling). 

Even Belial isn't going to be in a good state after the verbal beating he received the night before, so possible negotiations aren't going to take place anytime soon. Maybe he shouldn't have let Azazel do his thing. Nothing good comes of that most of the time and  **_he knows that_ ** so why - 

His brows furrow as he stuffs another spoonful into his mouth as he continues to contemplate, in spite of not knowing what he's even contemplating in the first place.  _ Thinking hard when stressed. _

Growling from his stomach tears him from his almost nonexistent thought process. 

_ Huh.  _

You know, in his years of being alive Hakeem would've never thought that his own obnoxiously loud body would jumpstart an idea. Once again, primals don't  **need** to eat. But they  _ can. _ Comfort food is a skydweller thing his primal crew members came to love (especially when Hakeem prepares it) so, well, what if - 

By the time he began the thought he had already left his beloved yogurt sitting by itself on his table of choice at the dining area, made his way into the kitchen, and had taken a tray from one of the cupboards. A clean plate, a mug, and a spoon soon follow. It's still rather early so classic breakfast works: two slices of bread, one of the buns Yggdrasil baked prior to  _ you-know-what _ (wow, it's still fresh), butter, some jam, tea…  _ cookies. _

Hakeem actually halts at that, shaking his head. Maybe he's putting too much thought into this. 

Ah, fuck it. 

He puts everything together with great care like he usually does for a sick crew member. Equally careful he sneaks from the galley across the tight corridors of the Endeavor into the prisoner tract. The holding cells are rather close to the engine room, so it's always rather cozy there. Being a former cruiser of the Imperial fleet, the ship's interior is dictated by blackened steel and charred wood to match the dark metallic tones, oil lanterns swinging with the ever gentle sway of the ship as the winds of Phantagrande chase across the upper deck. 

The thick iron gate that leads to the cells stands wide open but it doesn't spark any concern within Hakeem, who just goes on his merry way to deliver some good ol' breakfast to their rather involuntary addition. This cell tract is rather small with its long corridor and five cells on each side, offering space for ten prisoners in total - well, maybe a hundred at most, considering how spacious the cells are. 

Belial's is the first to the left. Each cell is equipped with an iron hatch and a surface beneath to slide trays through said hatch, which can also be used as a makeshift table by prisoners - simple and efficient. 

The hatch is opened with ease, food tray pushed through, just as the designer intended it, before the mechanism snaps shut once more. Hakeem can only wonder how many fingers this thing had cost some guards who weren't quick enough. Though, he quickly discards that thought, diverting his attention to more pressing matters. Their prisoner is unresponsive to even the accursed sound of metal grinding on metal, lying huddled up on what barely passes as a bed.

Based on the steady, yet slow rise and fall of the primal's side, Hakeem assumes that he's exhausted from  _ that incident _ and the earful he got. 

Without a reason to linger by the cells, Hakeem doesn't grace their lonely inmate with another glance and slinks into the corridor once more. He catches himself hesitating when it comes to sealing the cell tract after last night; thanks to the unfortunate architecture and,  _ occasionally, _ downright unbearable heat resulting from such (really, who puts a cell tract right by the ship's engine room without viable ventilation), the tract isn't the most comfortable place to be. Knowing the Erste Empire there is method in this design, but Hakeem isn't keen on cooking his prisoner alive.

On the other side, it's Belial. Even if seemingly apathetic, the primal might just decide he's had enough of sitting around and,  _ y'know, _ miraculously finds his way out. However, with the primal's status and strength at hand, it's rather clear that if Belial found himself bored with his predicament, he could just tear the airship in two. Not really the best thing to think about, but it's the grim truth. 

In the end, his choice doesn't really have much weight. This is a bad idea through and through either way. 

And thus, the gate stands open throughout the day. 


	6. Chapter 6

Armed with a crate, Hakeem goes below deck. Empty shells of iron rattle against wood - he wasn't lazy at all today, stocking up for when they're grounded once more and he can set up shop. After what happened they  _ need _ money for repairs and new emergency supplies, so he returned to spending most of his time at his workshop, smithing and working until the skin at the tips of his fingers cracks. 

Speaking of which, raw flesh versus rough wood isn't pleasant at all, haste in his step as he makes his way to the cargo bay to get rid of the accursed thing. The Endeavor isn't made to hold much, seeing how its primary purpose is gaining the upper hand in warfare, so he does his best to stack the goods in the most efficient way. 

Once having found a nice corner for the new batch of gun shells, Hakeem leaves the cargo bay again - and catches himself downright gravitating towards the cell tract. He hasn't checked since early morning. 

A look won't hurt. 

There's little hesitation as he makes his way to the cells once more, surprised to find their surprise guest awake. His injuries had left him cathartic; the rough collision with the top side of the Endeavor definitely played a part in that too. A human would've been… well,  _ close to applesauce in consistency _ after a fall like that. 

The one stool Belial's cell has to offer was pulled close to the bars, the primal leaning against metal in an attempt to get at least a little comfortable. Hakeem's eyes remain cast downward (aside from the occasional glance) but he can't hell but still in his tracks as he notices how Belial just seems to be watching him in silence, sharp eyes gleaming with something he can't quite place. It's nothing one could compare to hostility - curiosity, perhaps? 

To avoid making this any weirder than it already is, he quickly diverts his attention to the tray he had left for Belial. Plate empty, mug empty - primal likely full and content.

_ Hell, there's not even crumbs left, _ he can't help but notice as he opens the hatch to pull the empty tray out. 

The primal's glances burn on his skin and he knows well to avoid direct eye contact. That's all Belial really needs; his charm comparable to Medusa's petrifying stare, but perhaps even stronger. It's nothing to poke fun at; both crews know that after everything that had happened. Belial seems unwilling to play with him, possibly just looking on in disinterest as Hakeem takes his leave, without gracing him with a look. 

It's too early to make any assumptions about the primal's stance on this situation, but as of now he seems almost compliant, making no attempts to break out, although he's well capable of doing so. 

Looks like he'll have to see where and how this goes. 


	7. Chapter 7

A month goes by. 

Both ships are grounded in the port of the Golonzo Archipelago, giving the crews some deserved time off as mechanics repair the various sore spots on the Grandcypher and the Endeavor. It was by no means cheap to pay for both, but Hakeem sees the assault on his finances rather nonchalantly - the business is going well. There's barely enough time for him to bring new wares from the cargo before Cucouroux already hands the last stock to a paying skyfarer. 

His work is appreciated by many other crews scattered across the realm, and they let him know that by dropping hefty sums on his weapons and ammunition. The pros outweigh the cons, really - he'll deal with raw fingers for a few hours.

His sister Gloria had expressed her worries about how he makes his living several times, but what can he say? Being a skyfarer is expensive and selling weaponry is a formidable way to get the money his crew needs to get by. And it's not like she isn't profiting from it too, seeing how he supplies her crew for free (well, sometimes; most of them just get discounts) - and helps her out when she needs it. And yet, she has her doubts. When it isn't illegal (although he has a trading and selling permit) and dangerous, he's supplying others with the means to kill. Well, as long as they don't kill him, he couldn't care less. 

"Thank you for your purchase, mister!", Cucouroux calls out to a customer who is already halfway out of the shop with a box full of throwing knives in hand, before she pours their sack of rupies into a small iron box that contains today's spoils. 

While his fellow weaponsmith handles the counter, Hakeem is rather busy rearranging the displays, seeing how some people just love leaving the item they looked at wherever they are. Customer service be damned, the money is worth it. Repurposing the cargo bay into a shop while they're grounded is a rather simple way of going about this, but who said merchants had to stay confined on one island? This is basically like a factory outlet - and aside from that, skyfaring merchants are  **the** thing as of recent.

If Gloria wants to chase their father all the way to Estalucia instead of pursuing a relatively normal life, then so be it. 

He can't help but grit his teeth at the thought of that as he carefully jostles a crate with rifle shell samples to make them look more presentable. Sometimes he can't believe they're actually related - but that thought is definitely a mutual experience. 

The next few minutes pass in silence and without customers, giving Hakeem the time to check the shop inventory. Or at least he would've done so, if there wasn't someone familiar appearing at the foot of the ramp that leads up to the cargo bay and slowly limping their way up. 

Unaware of them at first, he goes on about sorting the few 'loose' materials he sells: different types of ammo shells, rifle stock, gun powder, various sizes of barrels - that kind of thing. 

"Captain, your-", Cucouroux begins but stops mid-talk. 

"Hey." A familiar voice, soft as usual but with a somber undertone. 

Hakeem isn't surprised to see the face to that voice - his sister, Gloria. He hasn't seen her for quite a while, Shao advising him to leave her alone during her recovery. The injuries she suffered weren't grave, but she took his decision to take in Belial rather badly; the last thing he wanted was to upset her further and sometimes she just needs her space. 

"Can I talk to you?", she asks him and now there's something stiff weighing into her tone. Not a good sign. 

Hakeem looks at Cucouroux, who immediately takes the hint and simply nods back at him - she'll handle everything while he's gone. Then, his gaze returns to Gloria and he shrugs as to say 'sure'. The two of them head inside the bowels of the Endeavor, past the cell tract and engine room on the lowest deck, before they make their way up to the crew deck where the living quarters and lounges are. 

Most of the rooms are empty as of now since they're grounded - aside from one of the common rooms down the hall, where Azazel seems to be having a rather heated match of ration poker with Rackam, Eustace, and Ilsa. Gloria's crew is way bigger than his own and combined with the frequent lack of funds, it is downright necessary for provisions to be strictly monitored; no wonder they're after whatever Azazel has been stashing. 

Gloria leads him to one of the empty common rooms, pretty much pushing him inside - and closing the door. 

The eager chatter from the four down the corridor is muffled, but it still serves to calm Hakeem, takes his mind off what the other might want to discuss. It's silent for a moment in which Gloria stands before him with crossed arms, lips pressed together in a tight line, as she seems to try and find a way to start this. 

"So, did you make up your mind about what to do with him?", his sister eventually begins, tone laced in venom - well, she does look like a viper aiming for his throat when she's mad at him. 

[Not yet. He's recovering.]

_ Absolutely the wrong thing to sign.  _

"Isn't that what we've been trying to prevent?", Gloria bites forth, "Do you know what danger you're exposing your crew to?" 

[I've done nothing to provoke him.]

Hakeem is about to sign more, but his sister seems not to pay heed to his feeble attempts to explain himself and his action. 

"Look, Sandalphon is getting impatient." A short pause. "He wants this whole thing off the table. As soon as possible."

It takes him a moment to understand what she's getting at. 

[I'm not killing him.]

"Michael w-" 

**"No."** , Hakeem manages to say with every bit of bite he can muster, jaw taut and teeth gritted so hard they might break. 

Hakeem understands. He understands well that after everything that had happened everyone just wants to bring the incident to an end, get rid of all traces of it, so that nothing of the sort may happen again. Belial was among the key elements of Lucilius' magnum opus, but what is the mere element of a plan without someone to execute it? Primals are a mere means to serve their creator - which is becoming more and more evident in Belial's behavior. He has been stagnant, lethargic, apathetic; there were no attempts to harm him or his crew. With Lucilius gone, he has no reason to do so, after all. 

Fortunately, his ever rare speech attempt stumped Gloria which gives him time to think of a good retaliation. Such a shame she mentioned Sandalphon - that makes it almost too easy. 

[Shouldn't Sandalphon know better? He was in a similar position not too long ago.] 

In response he gets teeth bared, albeit for a short moment, and a snarl to match. A bad reaction. His sister is rather infamous for her short fits of rage, especially when one finds a sore spot on her - and good lord, is there many of them; Hakeem knows that well. 

_ "Do  _ **_not_ ** _ compare them. _ They're different.", she snaps at him, perhaps louder than intended. 

Unbeknownst to both, the poker chatter in the other common room dies down a little bit each time Gloria raises her voice. 

Hakeem is determined to continue poking at the Sandalphon issue. He's aware that his sister has a thing for the little sparrow gone supreme primarch; that absolutely explains her slight overreaction. Observant as he is, it's not hard to notice the little things when he sees them together. However, it seems like Gloria has got to swallow the bitter pill for once - there's not much that separates Belial and Sandalphon from one another, aside from their motives and the amount of time they managed to get away with doing what they did. 

"They are. Different.", Gloria repeats, with more firmness in her voice than before, "I don't see Belial actually doing something to better himself."

He actually halts at that, his face twisting into a peculiar grimace to express his confusion.  _ It's only been a month. Airships aren't built in a few days. _ God, give his sister patience or give her death. 

[Things don't change in such a short amount of time.]

_ "Is that the only bullshit excuse you can come up with?!" _

Sometimes he wishes he was deaf; her enraged yelling comes close to Azazel's. But with the primal it's at least endearing, seeing how the guy usually yells about the smallest things, like when they're out of sugar or if Yggdrasil puts flowers in his hair, but when Gloria yells,  _ walls are torn asunder.  _

[If you don't stop yelling at me, I'm ending this conversation here.]

"Oh, not up for arguing today, huh?", she sneers at him once more, anger twisting her expression into a face he rarely sees. Man, that really is a sore spot. 

[Get off my ship.]

And boy, does she get off his ship. 

The door to the room flies open, nearly hitting an unsuspecting Olivia who was just going on about her day (likely to pick on Azazel with the others). Gloria stomps down the corridor to the stairs, all while cussing out Hakeem and his ways, the sound of her steps echoing through the metal interior of the Endeavor along with heated grumbling that just might be death wishes. 

It takes Olivia a moment to regain her wits. It surprises him that she looks at him with something akin to worry on her face; such a rare sight. However, Hakeem doesn't pay any attention to that, passes her in silence as the poker quartet peeks from their common room, looking after him in the same manner as Olivia. 

He needs some fresh air. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey yall! i wanted to write more bits before posting another batch but since stuff is kinda crazy rn and im pretty much feeling like i have to scavenge for the bare essentials i didnt finish more and its probs going to be that way for the next months or so.
> 
> anyway heres belial apologism (feel free to yell at me on twitter @ bunshima, quarantine boring :c)

In between having the shop open, Gloria's outburst, and his other duties as a captain, Hakeem completely forgot to bring Belial food. He doesn't have the time nor the will to prepare anything special for him, so he heats up some leftovers from today's lunch - he just hopes that Belial likes his chicken noodle soup as much as every other primal on this ship. 

Quick yet careful, Hakeem makes his way down to the cells with the food tray. Once in the cell tract, he's already greeted by loud growling - almost had him thinking that Belial changed his mind and decided to go insane inside his cell, but no, he's  **_hungry._ ** This happened to Noa, too; once a primal gets used to food, their body may be more accepting of it, which leads to them getting hungry - just like a skydweller. 

Belial sits in his favourite corner, eyeing Hakeem in silence as he puts the tray through the food hatch for him, all while giving him an apologetic look, hoping that he'll take the hint. 

The primal seems not to mind late lunch - he's likely happy about anything at all - and slowly rises to pull his stool to the hatch to promptly start eating; just like clockwork. Hakeem actually sighs at that. At least there's still one person aboard this ship who isn't yelling at him and, you know, seems to appreciate the stuff he's doing. Then again, he wouldn't bite the hand that feeds him either. 

As the other is busy with his tray, Hakeem settles on the only stool outside of the cells that's usually meant for the guard stationed at the time, puts it by the short stretch of wall that separates Belial's cell from the one next to it. The atmosphere in this almost dungeon-like chamber is rather soothing, albeit a bit macabre, considering the horrors that might've taken place here before there was a rather forceful change of ownership of the Endeavor. Leaning against the wall, he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a battered pack of cigarettes, along with his lighter. He usually doesn't like smoking anywhere that isn't his room or the main deck, but it's more than needed right now. 

The first drag is long and drawn out, with an exhale to match. The sound of his breath is interrupted by a quiet hiccup - someone's eating a bit too fast. Hakeem can't keep himself from snorting at that before taking another drag of his cigarette. He'd feel even worse about being late with the primal's lunch if he wasn't busy with himself.

This whole thing is messy - almost too messy for his tastes - but killing a prisoner? Hakeem's hands are far from clean, but even with him there's some hesitation when it comes to ending someone who doesn't give him a reason to do so. Well, technically, Belial has already given him more than one reason. Perhaps it's the fact that he seems so pathetic and defenseless in his current state that Hakeem is missing the perfect opportunity to behead the cobra with a butcher's knife. Perhaps that's what Belial _ wants; _ he wouldn't put it past him.

His thoughts are interrupted by a spoon clinking against ceramic and wood scraping across stone, while the primal returns to his spot in the corner. After that, silence - for a moment at least. 

"Is it really worth causing a family feud over me?"

Hakeem stills in his spot. It's been an entire goddamn month without a word and of course,  **_of course,_ ** Belial starts talking when he isn't in the headspace to really pay the necessary attention to him. He has no answer for his question, but it turns out to be rhetorical anyway, evident in the primal's following words. 

"You could just throw me overboard and that'd be the end of it, Singularity."

While he  _ is _ right about that, Belial would have to actually provoke Hakeem to make that solution even occur to him. He's determined to find a better way to deal with this - one that doesn't involve pretty much euthanizing a primal for their actions. 

"... Not one of the vocal variety, huh?" How long until he realizes that he's pretty much talking to a wall?

_ Oh, how he had dreaded the futile attempts to get under his skin. _ If it's not sexual, it's related to his... general circumstances _. _ Hell, it's even both combined in this case. However, after years of hearing the same 'why aren't you talking, say something' requests and the 'did your mother drop you on your head as a kid' remarks, it's safe to say that it takes a little more to faze him. Hakeem takes another lengthy drag of his cigarette, sighing deeply after, before stubbing it on the wall and dropping the stump (well, it is  _ his _ ship). 

Belial speaks anew, albeit absent-minded and almost slurred. It seems like it's more said to himself than his silent warden, words murmured and unintelligible to Hakeem.

Movement in the corner of his eye draws his attention. Fingers curled around one of the vertical bars of Belial's cell as the primal appears to rest against the metal, the tatters that are left of his clothing slip past his solitary confinement. Hilariously enough, Belial seems to feel the same about this predicament and huffs back at Hakeem - he didn't even know he could produce such a harmless noise. It's almost  _ cute. _

"And here I thought your sister was the goody-two-shoes out of you two."

Usually that would've been the truth, but not when it comes to this particular situation. Getting on Gloria's bad side is close to a death sentence - and it's pretty easy, too, if your name is Belial.

Another prolonged moment of silence follows. It feels close to a leap of faith when Hakeem decides to scoot closer to the bars with his stool. The picture presenting itself to him doesn't quite fit into the impression he had of Belial. His captive seems to be doing his damnedest to get comfortable, looking weirdly contorted in his corner as he leans against the cell bars, hand clawing at them just so he has something soft to rest his head on. Although unable to catch more than just a glimpse of his prisoner's face, it's safe to say that he looks as miserable as he possibly could. 

Is this something akin to genuine grief? Or is it yet another farce of Belial to save his miserable hide from further harm? Even after a month of carefully observing him in his confinement,  _ Hakeem cannot tell. _ What he can tell, though, is that this display manages to tug at his heart strings like nothing else before. There's just something about seeing such a strong personality at the end of their wits. 

A soft sigh causes his nostrils to flare. 

The sound of it catches the primal's attention, a piercing gaze cast at his captor; what would be a devastating stare carries little weight with only one eye visible, while its counterpart is hidden in an almost submissive posture. Not even the fact that his pupil is reduced to a thin line can give his gaze the weight he likely intended. Despite past qualms about making direct eye contact with Belial, Hakeem risks it, looks at him with a somber expression gracing his features - and he holds it, waits for something,  _ anything.  _ But nothing shall follow. 

All he gets is this pitiful attempt to ward him off (or whatever reaction Belial wants to provoke with this stare). 

In a hesitant and gradual motion, he lifts his hand to reach out, past thick iron bars - until his fingers weave into soft, dark brown hair. He gives Belial another moment to see if he objects to such advances… _ but he doesn't. _ Almost as if petting a frightened street mutt, Hakeem does his utmost to caress the primal's scalp as carefully as possible. After spending several years with primals on board, he doesn't worry about losing his hand to this particular one; in spite of being an enigma for the most part, primals are rather simple when it comes to affections - much like humans. 

His ministrations take a moment to fully settle, but then the primal's pupil begins to dilate, lashes fluttering in a slow blink. He even tilts his head just a bit to show Hakeem his favourite spot. Perhaps it's a foolish thing to hope for a change in attitude, but seeing Belial, out of all creatures in this realm, relax under his touch makes him think that not all is lost just yet.  _ That he doesn't have to kill him. _

The primal beast's droning purr is sure to follow; it only serves to feed the foolish hopes festering in him -  _ and he curses himself for being so gullible. _

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! (come yell at me on twitter @bunshima)


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